A pulse of silent acknowledgment met the Sword's promise to contact the Maverick. Or perhaps to contact Kiada, who seemed to handle most of the Grounds' correspondence. It was all that he could ask for, and he let out a slow breath and slid low enough in the water to let his head rest back upon the rounded stones of the edge, cushioned by his braid. Face tilted towards the sky, he watched the stars above through half-closed eyes, stretching his tail out in the hot water and letting its healing properties sink into every muscle and sinew.
We have met, he concurred, though there was a slow hesitation there as he pulled up the memory of the dark-haired woman from distant recollection. I do not know her well. Did not know that she had the gift of foresight, though such a thing could be of great use. Was there detail of what to guard against? Or something more of what to expect, beyond Koa's vague warnings from Safrin on the next challenge.
We have met, he concurred, though there was a slow hesitation there as he pulled up the memory of the dark-haired woman from distant recollection. I do not know her well. Did not know that she had the gift of foresight, though such a thing could be of great use. Was there detail of what to guard against? Or something more of what to expect, beyond Koa's vague warnings from Safrin on the next challenge.
